Together
by Abby -WCD
Summary: REWRITE GRAVEYARD: Voldemort decides to use a different Horcrux for his resurrection. Harry finds himself in an unwanted position.


N/A: Okay. To clarify, this fanfic is basically a "What if Voldemort used Harry as the Horcrux that night in the graveyard?" deal. Yees, rather...random, I know. But since I've seen the fourth movie five times now (and I'm dying to see it again), I'm more than ready to have a random update.

Warnings: Strangely graphic. It made my stomach squeamish. Beware.

Have fun. :)

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_Together_

Harry could feel the tension building up inside of him. With a flick of his wrist, he held his wand in his hand, hand gripping the wooden hilt in desperation. Cedric stood by his side, already investigating the lone graveyard. A twinge of a vague memory made Harry quirk, arousing suspicion in his unsettled stomach. The Hufflepuff glanced back over to his opponent, murky depths unsure of what to make of him.

"Did anyone tell _you_ the cup was a Portkey?" Harry forced himself to shake his head sincerely. As he did, the pit inside of him was growing, understanding their current situation. The young Gryffindor continued to investigate his surroundings, eyeing each gravestone with an anxious dread. When his eyes lay upon the tombstone he was hoping not to find, his instincts began to take over, causing him to spin wildly towards Cedric.

"We have to get out of here. Now. Cedric-!" But it was too late. A man had just appeared from a nearby edifice, face concealed within his cloak. In his hand, a thin piece of wood was pointed towards the two, seeming to be held strong and steady. A rapid pain seared across the hero's famous scar. He fell to the floor in agony, screwing his eyes shut to try to ignore the rushed throbbing of his head. Cedric made a move towards his classmate, but he was stopped short.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A second later, the young boy was dead, prostrate on the damp dirt. Harry tried to pry his eyes open, hoping to see the other Hogwarts student alive and running towards the Triwizard Cup. But instead, when his eyelids were just starting to unfold, a rough hand forced the boy to his feet, causing Harry to drop his wand in the process. Before he knew it, Harry was shoved forward, causing him to have a collusion with something extremely hard mid-waist. Falling, the boy who lived fell, dropping into a pit of liquid.

At first, the fluid was cold and thin. Harry could feel his skin crawling, gooseflesh covering his entire body. He tried to reach the surface of the substance, but something kept the child down, attached to the bottom of the black holder. Surprisingly, Harry was able to breathe, the mysterious liquid numbing his entire body.

"Bone – of the father – unknowingly given-!" A soft thud at the top of the substance started up Harry scar again, beginning a new, more painful stabbing sensation to overtake the boy's skull. The liquid suddenly turned thick and hot, burning the child's skin in an atrocious way. Harry screamed, unable to take the torture of his flesh being enflamed. His pained cry went unheard as the man from above continued, adding his next ingredient.

"Flesh – of the servant – w-willingly given-!" A new item was added to Harry's dark prison. Suddenly, like a gift from heaven, the pain ceased after the addition of the cut hand, which sank to the bottom slowly. A cool rush freed Harry from his suffering, allowing the child a brief moment of relief. His scar had cooled, becoming lighter and unnoticeable. Though, the memories began to fill the boy who lived's head, reminding the child of how much torture his life has already been.

"B-blood…of the enemy…forcibly taken…"

The words faltered. Unknowing what to do, Wormtail continued, his mousey eyes staring deep within the cauldron in front of him.

"…you will… resurrect-" At that moment, Peter could hear it. There was an unbearable shriek from the bubbling depths that even he couldn't stand. He backed away from the erupting cauldron, mouth sputtering for words. He found the end of his statement seconds later.

"-your f-foe-!"

Harry felt his head split open. The past was tearing at his skull, breaking the hard bone. He felt his lungs give out, filled with the acidic solution, burning his insides. As his eyes were eaten at by the acid, the child tried to forget the look of his mother as she fell, his own emerald orbs crashed and smashed.

The hero could feel his body changing. Slowly, as each stretch and yank at his bones and muscles tore at his structure, Harry could literally see himself being remolded into another man. He could see his nose flatten, his eaten away eyes turning a bloody scarlet, and his arms and legs becoming lanky and deformed-

The cauldron disappeared, leaving nothing but a devil. Voldemort smiled, loving the feel of his thin grin spread across his and Harry's face.

"We're back."

In the back of the Dark Lord's mind, Harry screamed.

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N/A: Leave your thoughts. And if I feel like it, I might update. Perchance. 


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